


Departure Hall

by sansos



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Haikyuu!! Manga Spoilers, One Shot, Post-Time Skip, Pro Volleyball Player Kageyama Tobio, Reader-Insert, Sort Of, rated T for one singular swear word
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-07
Updated: 2020-08-07
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:20:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25768831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sansos/pseuds/sansos
Summary: If he left through the departure hall doors, it would all be over: The story between the two of you would be shut to a close, and you would be forced to part ways as strangers at the start of different paths.
Relationships: Kageyama Tobio & Reader, Kageyama Tobio/Reader
Comments: 2
Kudos: 63





	Departure Hall

**Author's Note:**

> Written for an anonymous event request! 
> 
> Prompt: "Can I request an one shot based on the lyric "meet me in the afterglow" for Kageyama?"

You stood at the center of the departure terminal, your feet frozen to the ground, your hands fiddling with the strap of your messenger bag. Your eyes trained straight at the double doors of the departure hall looming overhead, your heart pounding incessantly against the walls of your chest.

The sound of suitcases rolling across the polished white tiles of the floor, the chatter erupting from the crowd —from tears of longing to cries of excitement. The voice of the intercom making its final boarding call, the clumsy footsteps of travellers balancing their passports and boarding passes with the luggage in their hands as they rushed to the gates.

You turned your head to the side, staring at the long aisles of check-in counters neatly organized into successive rows, each with warm smiles and cheerful laughter littered across the stratosphere of the terminal —the zealous excitement for the new adventures and new beginnings that the departure terminal seemed to promise.

Your clutch on your bag strap tightened.

You shouldn’t have come here.

* * *

“You’re not going to see him off?”

A pause. A break. A silence. An unwilling response.

“It’s not like he wants to see me anyways.”

A sigh. A look of concern. A hand reached out but rescinded moments afterwards.

“But do you want to see him?”

A turn of the head. A choice not to answer.  
—

A bitter laugh slipped out of your lips as you trudged on forwards.

Did it really matter if even if you did? Would it make a difference when you were the one who lit the bridge connecting the two of you into the blazing inferno? All your routes had been destroyed by your hand and your hand alone —the light at the end of the tunnel extinguished just like whatever bond you had shared before. Was there any point to your stubborn refusal to let go of the last remaining shard of hope?

You took another step forward towards the departure hall —another step closer to a new beginning— but quickly paced back to the center of the concourse, hiding within the force field of the bustling traffic of travellers rushing to their flight as their loved ones bade them farewell.

Because before any new beginning came an end. An end that you didn’t want to admit, but invaded your thoughts nonetheless.

He wouldn’t want to see you.

And maybe it was for the best if he didn’t.

* * *

“Italy? You’re going to fucking Italy?” you had screamed at him, your stance combative with every square inch of your arm tensed and flexed as if ready to fight at a moment’s notice.

“I’m—”

“Were you ever going to tell me?” you demanded through clenched teeth, your fists full of the man’s shirt collar. You licked your lips and threw him back, slamming your fist into his chest to push him back away when he tried to approach you again. “I had to learn this from Tsukishima. Tsukishima of all people.”

“I—”

“Your thick head never thinks about anything or anyone other than yourself,” you had snarled, jabbing an accusatory finger at the man in front of you.

“But—”

“Save it. You’re nothing but a selfish, self-centered, self-entitled dictator—”

You stopped yourself mid-sentence, cutting yourself off from the rampage that you had launched into and swallowing back down the cursed poison brewing in your chest when you noticed the twitch at the corner of Kageyama’s eye.

A twitch, a clench of his jaw, his fists so tight his knuckles turned white.

His eyes that once looked at you with every last drop of love and affection, of devotion and warmth, had now been replaced by ones filled with nothing save for regret and with anguish. They had met your own, wavering for a second before finding themselves shackled to the ground —to the hell that you now found yourself standing in.

He had opened his mouth to speak, the name that he had so affectionately called just moments earlier now so laced with scorn and betrayal slipping from his lips ever so slowly.

Yet no message followed suit. He had repeatedly braved the bitterness of your name on his tongue over and over again, though never found the words he wanted to say. Instead, he chose to purse his lips together in the end, having opted to walk along the path of silence with his hands behind his back rather than to put up a fight.

He had looked up at you one last time, his fist clenching tightly around the object in its grasp, before shoving his hands back into his coat pocket and turning on his heel to leave.

And when he had finally disappeared out of sight, you fell down onto your knees, your lips tasting the salt of your tears.

“I’m sorry,” you had finally croaked out, your head held low in remorse.

* * *

Your eyes squeezed shut and you turned your head to the side in shame as you relived the scene in your mind, shutting out the merry sounds of laughter from your surroundings.

No, you shouldn’t be here.

Not in a place where words of farewell were routinely exchanged —not in a place marking the divergence of two previously entwined destinies. The departure terminal stood as the very embodiment of the end and the beginning —of where one marked the end of their journey in preparation for the next.

You didn’t belong here. You didn’t want another start —you didn’t want there to be an ending. You didn’t want to be here if it meant that you would be forced to turn away acknowledging that your story had run its course.

“But do you want to see him?”

But did it matter what you wanted? Did it even matter if you locked your stubborn pride away and threw away the key? Was there a point to hope —to cling on to the impossible— when he was the one who didn’t want to see you? It was a meaningless question that served no purpose; your fate was sealed the second the accursed words had escaped your lips.

You drew in a shaky breath as you looked up at the ceiling, concentrating on a single point above as your tears threatened to spill out of their reservoirs.

It was all you. It was all your fault. It was your words that had ripped apart the sutures of the age-old wound in his heart. It was by your own foolish mouth that you had shattered the picturesque future that you had envisioned so many times under the stars.

And you could whisper meaningless words of apologies, and swear an oath of empty promises —of lackluster dreams of change, of pointless vows of growth. You could offer him superfluous dreams of grandeur —one where you would be nothing save supportive, never speaking out of line and always offering encouragement— but what good would it all do if you yourself were the demon you swore to protect him against?

Because uneasy is the head that wears a crown. Because he had been gifted with talent, with skill —with an innate passion that burned brighter than the sun itself— at the cost of solitude, of self-doubt, of a curse to walk down the long winding path with no one save for himself. Your sole desire was to see him thrive; to see him let his potential lead him to conquer the universes above. But if you were the one who would revive the nightmares of old and retrieve the memories that had sunken deep into the oceans of his mind…

What right did you have to keep standing next to him?

The ferric taste of blood dropped onto your tongue, your nerves transmitting the pain to your consciousness to release your lips from the hold of your teeth. You looked back down, running your arm across your face to dry off the stray tears that had escaped.

Even if you had to slam your fists against the tightly bolted door, even if you had to break the windows to force your way in through glass daggers —you had to tell him. You had to tell him, beaten and bloodied and against all odds, that it was you —that the cloak of blame was to rest on your shoulders alone.

You tightened your grip on the strap of your messenger bag, straightening your back as you drew in a deep breath. You took a step forward, then another, and then another. Small steps turned into big steps, which then turned into large strides as your feet took over by themselves to quicken their pace, allowing your head to turn from corner to corner as you desperately searched for Kageyama.

Yet in spite of your efforts, your frantic scavenge across the terminal yielded no results. There was no sign of the mop of black hair that he likely finger-combed in the morning and decided was good enough, no sign of the blue windbreaker he would always find his hand reaching for when he had to fly off, and no sign of the empty small box of yogurt that would always be loosely tucked in his large hand as he walked around in search of the next rubbish bin.

You slowed down to a halt, your chest expanding wider than before as you tried to steady your breathing. You glanced down at your watch: How much time did you have left? Would he have gone on ahead already?

Your hand fidgeted nervously at the strap of your bag as you looked ahead at the double doors sectioning off the public concourse from the departure hall.

Was this it? Would this be how your story ended?

Had he already walked through the glass panels to start anew?

“(f/n)?”

As if his voice was the beacon of a lighthouse, your head whipped right over towards the source, finding none other than Kageyama himself standing directly across from you. The messy black hair, the worn blue windbreaker, the empty box of yogurt in hand.

You managed a bittersweet smile, one of such profound sorrow for your past actions and of such relief for having just found him. Thoughts of “I’m sorry”, of pleas of another chance, of you begging on your knees for forgiveness all crossed your mind simultaneously at once as the world around you stopped to a standstill.

Your words found themselves choked behind your throat while your body started to move by itself instinctively. A step, then another, and then you broke out into a run, the tears in your eyes obscuring your vision as you blindly made your way over guided solely by the thread of fate.

“Hurry, you need to hurry” and “you’ll have no other chance” screamed into your mind as you sacrificed speed for precision, your feet now moving haphazardly to keep your momentum going until you misplaced your next step and found yourself falling forwards.

Yet rather than the cold tiles of the floor, you landed into the sturdy chest of the raven-haired man instead, his arms wrapped so tight around your body as if any less would mean that you would slip away from him forever. You looked up, his blue eyes staring back at yours in both disbelief and relief.

“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice taut and raspy, as he helped you back up to your feet, never once letting go of the tight hold he had on your hand. You nodded wordlessly as you steadied yourself, but soon found yourself pulled back into Kageyama’s chest as he held you close by the waist, his head resting against your shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered into your hair as he pressed closer against you, the subtle scent of soap that always seemed to linger on him permeating your senses.

“No… I’m… I’m sorry,” you stammered through silent sobs, your fists curled tightly around fistfuls of his jacket. He moved his hand up your back, resting against your shoulder blades as he gently rubbed the area, relief and forgiveness resonating with each movement. “I didn’t mean it. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“I know,” he whispered by your ear as your tears continued pouring out, staining dark spots onto his blue jacket. You shook your head with your face pressed against his chest as you leaned in closer, as if the demons you feared so much would be able to slip through the crevices and snatch him away once more.

“I don’t want to lose this,” you quavered, your voice so fragile and shaking with each word. “I don’t want to lose you.”

You could feel Kageyama shift his weight onto his other foot from where you had rested your head against, and you soon felt the hand on your shoulder drop back down to find its way around your waist as his other hand reached over to gently tilt your chin up, inviting you to look him in the eye.

“Hey,” he whispered quietly as the edges of his lips curved into a rare smile. “It’s okay. I’m here.” You shook your head, fighting against his hold on you to bury your face back into the safety of his chest.

He sighed as he moved his arm back down to wrap around your waist, relenting and allowing you to have your way as he rested his chin on top of your head once more.

“I thought about it also. Or I guess, Iwaizumi-san talked about it with me. I should’ve told you earlier. I’m sorry,” he said, letting out a bitter laugh. You shook your head with desperate whispers of “no, no that’s not it, no” as your grip on his jacket tightened.

He let go of you and let out an agonized moan, his hands running through his ebony hair as he struggled to formulate a follow up. He took a deep breath in and fished an item out from his pocket, shoving it into your palms with anxious hands.

You looked down.

A silver necklace sat comfortably in your hands. It was simple —earnest, even. Just a round pendant with nothing save for a single number etched in the center.

“I’ll be gone for a while, but I’ll try to come back and stuff as much as I can…” Kageyama mumbled as he scratched the back of his head, looking away from you. “I thought that this can be my pri— I mean, my pro… Agh, I can’t say it. This is so stupidly embarrassing,” he cried as he untucked his hands from his pockets to cover his face.

You laughed, wiping away the stray tears at the corner of your eyes as a loving smile overthrew the despair that had previously taken control.  
“This can be your what?” you teased, your voice quivering as you tried to hold in your laughter, your hands moving to coax Kageyama’s off his face.

“Mypromisetoyou,” he mumbled, his words slurred so quickly that you could barely make out the words he had just uttered.

“What’s that? I couldn’t hear you,” you drawled, the edges of your mouth shooting up as the worry and anguish from before vanished from the recesses of your mind, replaced completely by the tenderness and fondness you felt for the man in front of you.

He groaned as he grabbed you by the face, hands cupping either side of your cheeks, and stared into your eyes with resolute determination.

“It’s my promise to you,” he punctuated, enunciating each syllable with clarity rivalling the clear skies above. “It’s my promise that no matter what happens, I will always be there to meet you in the afterglow.”

“Are you proposing to me?” you laughed as you rested your hands atop Kageyama’s, the feeling of peace and happiness fluttering about in your stomach.

“N—No! It’s too early for that!,” Kageyama sputtered, embarrassed, as he pulled you in and wedged his face in the crook of your neck to hide his reddening face. “I want to do things properly. It wouldn’t be fair to ask you something like that just as I left,” he mumbled from his spot.

“Now boarding flight JL407 from Narita to Frankfurt with following connection to Rome.”

You looked up at the speakers on the ceiling and leaned back, pushing lightly on Kageyama to face him once more. “You should head to the departure hall soon,” you whispered as you handed him his passport from on top of his suitcase. He held on to your hand as he accepted the documents from you with his other, nodding with a bittersweet smile on his face.

Wordlessly, he took the necklace back into his hands and leaned over to drape the chain across your neck, leaning over your shoulder to fasten the clasp. He blushed, a soft grin forming on his lips, when he saw the expression on your face, and pulled you once again back into his arms.

“I’ll call you everyday,” he promised, the words rolling off slow and controlled as if he was savoring the remaining time between the two of you. You hummed in response.

“And I’ll send messages to you whenever I can,” he continued, the rising and falling of his chest slowing down.

“And I’ll—” You cut him off with a finger to his lips.

“And I’ll miss you everyday,” you said in his place. He lightly laughed —the same laugh that would bubble up to the surface whenever he was caught off guard by his own amusement.

He nodded and let you go, stepping back and whispering into your ear before disappearing to the other side of the door.

You turned on your heel and walked away from the departure hall doors in the direction of the train station, your head held up high with the number nine proudly dangling above your heart.

There was no longer a reason for you to be here.

With every end came a new beginning, and it was time to let the reins of fate take over.

Perhaps your departure from the terminal marked the end of this story, and maybe it uncovered a crossroad that had led you onto diverging paths in life.

But it didn’t matter. It didn’t matter even if the threads of fate never intersected ever again.

Because you knew that no matter what, he would always be there waiting for you under the pink-orange hues of the sunset.

**Author's Note:**

> I wonder what Kageyama whispered into the reader's ear... Hm...


End file.
